


Dragon Age 1 Word Prompts

by Lychenthrope



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, One Word Prompts, Random & Short, Short One Shot, simple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lychenthrope/pseuds/Lychenthrope
Summary: A collection of one word prompts I did for Dragon Age. Theyre very short.
Relationships: Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age), Fenris/Male Hawke
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope someone likes these as much as I liked writing them.

Zevran was always one to try new things. After all, one must keep an open mind in order to be successful, no? At least, that's what he would like to believe. Life was not worth living when restricted- least of all the expectations of others. Of course, this was just simple fact! ..Which was why, perhaps, he found himself in a very lovely little seamstress' workshop, next to the glittering sea in his Antiva City, thumbing over various textiles and flittering through stacks of adorning lace, chains of pearls, and filigree embroidery samples. In all honesty, this was for work- but.. He was allowed to pick what he wanted to wear. In a way, it was a reward.

After choosing a combination of a deep, midnight black, pale gold accenting pieces and ruby red for a flowing, tight just on the curves and wonderfully elegant dress, with absolutely perfect black heeled boots to match, he was soon rushed away to another wing of their little shop, off to design a matching masquerade mask to go with it- Crow themed, of course, just what else was he supposed to ask for? - he now had to lie in wait for the approaching ball. It was morbidly exciting. He got to do his artistry, all while being a work of art himself. It was an absolutely perfect set up.

\--

Slipping on the dress, styling his hair- doing a bit of make up for effect and finally adding the finishing pieces; a vial of poison at his hip and a dagger in a secret chest pocket, of course,- Zevran gazed at himself in the small apartment mirror with nothing but confidence and self-appreciation. It hugged him perfectly, making him truly look dangerously attractive. And well, he would be. His golden hair fell over his shoulders and just barely touched his chest with windswept waves, cunning amber eyes peeking teasingly from beneath a beaked mask that still left his painted lips visible. He'd never felt prettier, really.

Walking into the ball itself would never be matched by another night in his life, he was sure. Already, he was gaining looks, eating them up ravenously as he glanced about for his target. He made sure to flutter his lashes and offer flirtatious smirks to both the men and the women along the way, sauntering to the target's side and letting his voice quiet as he linked their arms.

"Good evening, my dear," he starts, silken gloves taking their hand to press a chaste kiss to their knuckles. "Would you be interested in joining me on the roof?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran + Magic, this time.

Magic was an intriguing thing. Of course, Zevran had only seen so much of it in his lifetime, usually restricted by whatever Circle or templar division was in the area. However, when the Wardens took him in, much wider exposure was definitely one thing he had not expected but should have seen coming. And, well, now he was curious. He had never really took the time to think about it, but now- he was more than a little nosy when Wynne would be preparing reagents and such for certain spells, or when Alistair would dispel things- Once, he'd seen the 'templar' fizzle out a fireball mid battle- he had to admit, that hadn't left his mind. It was infinitely impressive.

Perhaps he'd actually find the words to ask them about it next time, rather than just watching from far off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris + Sea

The sea. What a complicated entity. Fenris stood perched on a small outcropping of rock, keeping watch as his companions delved into a cavern behind him. Of course, there wasn't much around- there almost never was, without Hawke. Conflict was drawn to him, it seems.. Not that it wasn't drawn to Fenris himself. He let out a sigh, staring into the churning water below him. The sea. What a complicated relationship they had. 

In a way, the sea was what granted him his freedom. In a way, it was another captor. He both loved and hated it. Saltwater's scent cleared his mind and yet brought more fog. It was frustrating. It was calming. The crash of waves reminded him of.. something. He truly couldn't place it- but when he'd think, when he'd let himself mull it over.. it was almost like voices. The rumbling of.. something. It was so, utterly frustrating. 

Perhaps one day he'd find out just why the sea made him feel so oddly adrenalized. Why it brought up so many different flashes of memories. Why the sound was one he both hated and found peace in.. 

His thoughts were soon interrupted as Hawke returned, rougher around the edges than usual with a dumb grin on his face. Fenris' lips curled into a smirk.

The sea.. how had Hawke captured it in his eyes, as well?  
\---


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris + Apple

Fenris felt.. humiliated, to say the least. In his hands he held a perfectly round, red apple. Hawke had handed it to him, a moment ago, with a laugh and a 'whatever you want'. He had not asked for an apple. He'd been reading, sounding out words quietly to himself as he did so. He'd been getting better, but he'd always found some words to trip him up. 

Unfortunately, this was one of many. Apple. It really wasn't that hard, but whenever he'd come upon it, he'd have to take a few moments to sound it out, again and again, until it finally registered in his mind. Apple. 

Fenris was glad Hawke only made small jokes at his expense. He was glad Hawke was patient with him, that Hawke wanted to teach him the things his captors had deemed him unworthy of. He loved reading, truly- it was just.. a little difficult. 

  
_The apples are from an orchard_. It wasn't that hard of a sentence, really. 'Th'-'uh'. The. Apples, however, always seemed to make him stumble. Apple. Ay-pple. Ai-pple. Ah-pull. Apple. He didn't even seem to realize he'd said it loud enough for Hawke to hear him. 

Now he just had to figure out 'orchard'...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris + Nightmare. Mild warning for torture mention.

Agony. It spread through his skin like wildfire, tearing screams from his throat as he gripped at the floor for any sort of grounding. The lyrium burned and carved through his flesh, marking his once clear skin a chilled shade of frosted blue. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The talons of raw magical material embedded themselves down to the bone, gripping and rending and tainting even his blood. All he saw was white. All he could taste was blood, and spit, and snot, metallic and salty and painful. He was choking, gasping for air just to have it punched out of his chest as more pain ravaged him, making him scream and howl like a wounded dog.

Finally, it was cold. 

Fear pierced him like a pike as he spoke. 

"You've earned your rite, little wolf. Are you proud of yourself? Are you proud for freeing _insignificant, meaningless wretches_?" Denarius' voice was calculated. Slow. 

Fenris couldn't answer. His throat burned, everything thrummed in pain. He closed his eyes..

"Fenris! Wake up. Fenris!" Hawke called in hushed whispers, ever so gently nudging the elf's shoulder.

"..Hawke?" he croaks, meeting the concerned eyes of his partner. 

"Are you okay? You were yelling- I'm pretty sure it woke up half the district," the man comments, doing his best to keep it light.

"I'm fine.. Just.. Stay awake with me. Don't ask."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris + Discovery. Non-binary rights.

Something hadn't felt right, recently. Well, nothing felt right, recently, what with everything going on, but now especially- specifically with.. himself. A low sigh fell ragged from his lips as he tightened the small red scrap around his wrist. Hawke. Hawke would know what to do.

As he knocked on the door, an uncharacteristic wave of anxiety crashed over him. Shifting his weight, he took worried glances around him- perhaps this wasn't a good idea? What if Hawke didn't understand? What if he-.. What if Fenris didn't have the words..? 

Hawke soon invited him inside the room, reminding Fenris that he didn't need to knock. Of course, Hawke knew the elf would just enter if he wanted to. This must've been something serious. The man's tone softened as he sat back on his bed.  
"What's wrong, Fenris?" he asks, watching him pace about the room.

"Everything, Hawke. I don't feel right." Fenris says quietly, pausing for a moment before continuing. "There's.. something that isn't sitting right with me. I.. It's hard to put into words. I think.. I don't feel.. Hm. I don't feel.. Male. But at the same time, I do not feel.. Female. What is this feeling, Hawke? Is it because of.." he trails off, face curling into a snarl. 

"I don't know, Fenris. But.. What feels right? Do you feel averted when I use 'he' for you?" 

"No, but.. Yes. That doesn't make much sense, does it?" His voice began to become frustrated. "I.. I am yours. I am your partner. I could be your husband. I am your right-hand, and I am your man. It sounds.. Right, but it sounds.. Odd. Is it odd, Hawke?"

"No, I don't think it does. Fenris is my partner. They could be my husband, and they are my right-hand. They are my man," Hawke parrots. "Does that sound better?" 

"It does," they say quietly, letting out a held breath. "It does."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jevon + Sky. Implied Warden/Alistair.

The camp was much different than the Alienage. Quiet. Still. Though in a lot of ways, it was the same. There was an ever-looming threat about- whether it be the humans, or now, the darkspawn. There were people he loved, here- though perhaps that was a strong word.. He was sure his.. partner? Was still a bit too afraid to say such things. He understood why. They were Wardens, after all- doomed to die. Connections would make letting go harder. 

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he moved to the edge of camp, whistling over his hound to his side. Laying down in the soft grass, he stared up at the stars. Nothing would change the amazement he felt each time he gazed up at them. They were all so vast, so bright- so.. constant. It was grounding, in a cheeky way, to look up and see the same sky each night. He'd never dreamed there were this many, though. In the city, the torches and bonfires would cloud the sky.. Not that he knew how, of course, but.. 

A small smile crossed his lips as memories of his mother started to return. She would always tell him of how beautiful the world outside the city was. How she wished her little blade could follow her out into the world. She used to speak so fondly of the view from the city rooftops, and in hushed whispers the sky she used to see as a child with the Dalish.. He wondered if-.. when, he found them.. if they would remember her. He certainly hoped it was the clan in Ferelden.

This was his favorite difference. The stars spanning across the inky blue- the one his mother would recount so fondly. He hoped she saw him, now, from her perch as one of the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope people like this. If you want to see more, comment. <3


End file.
